Thorny Questions
by GalaxieGurl
Summary: This is a Secret Santa fic for ecv, although not about Christmas. Eventually, I'll get an idea for her story that is seasonal. In the meantime, she wanted a Booth-Brennan disagreement, and making up.


Thorny Questions

 _A/N: This is my second Secret Santa fic for ecv, only it isn't Christmasy either. She asked for a fight between Booth and Brennan, not about their kids, and making up. Knowing how important Christmas is to Booth, I can't picture Brennan squabbling with him about his favorite time of year. To me, the matters they are disagreeing about in this story aren't about their children, but existential. Christine just happened to be the catalyst this time, with her questions sparked by Seeley and Sunday School. For the timeframe of this story, Pops is still alive, so you'll have to go with me on this._ _I hope you enjoy it._

Booth had been mulling over the problem for several days. He knew Brennan didn't buy into the idea of an afterlife or heaven or the hereafter. Call it what you will, she didn't believe any of it. He had long ago stopped presenting reasons why she might consider the possibility of life beyond the grave. His wife had become a staunch aetheist at some point during her late teens or early adulthood, as a result of the horrible treatment she endured in foster care.

She'd prayed for some sort of deliverance which never came. She had struggled to understand why an innocent teenaged girl would be subjected to such abuse as she had experienced. Without anyone to confide in, she had analyzed her own behavior and found no wrongdoing which could merit such torment. If there was a God, why would He allow people to be so cruel to another human being who had done nothing to them? Unable to answer these questions or justify her situation, she had come to the only conclusion her logical mind could conceive. God must not really exist. He was only a figment of the imagination for sappy, pious individuals who had never faced the evils life could dish out.

ooooooooooo

Christine had come out of her religion class the previous Sunday filled with questions about her Uncle Sweets. All Souls' Day had fallen on that Saturday, and her Sunday School teacher had discussed the church's teachings with her class. At eight years old, Christine was perceptive beyond her years. She had inherited his talent for reading people, and her mother's sharp inquisitive mind. Sweets was the only person she knew well who had died during her young life. Although it had been a few years since his tragic loss, she still missed the kind young man who treated her as an equal, never talking down to her.

As they drove home in the SUV, it didn't take long after posing her question for Christine to realize that her father was squirming a bit. The young girl asked a thousand questions about a myriad of subjects, and her parents had both answered her queries readily and honestly. Neither Booth nor Brennan usually hesitated in giving her a response. Yet her father was clearly uneasy.

Christine wanted to know how she could tell other people about her wonderful uncle to be sure he wasn't forgotten. She knew their unorthodox family honored his memory to insure that Seeley Lance would know how much they'd loved his heroic father. But she wanted everyone to know how kind and giving her Uncle had been. Where is he now? Where do souls go? Why can't we see them and talk to them?

She turned to her father and said, "Daddy, there have been times ever since I was little that I feel like Uncle Sweets is near me. But Mrs. Falkins says we can't see, hear, or talk to the dead. Not really. You can think something about them, but you can't really communicate. How can it seem to me like he's with me? Am I crazy? Seeley sometimes asks me questions about his dad, and I don't want to tell him the wrong thing. He says he feels like his father is with him. Is he crazy too? I asked Mommy about it, and she told me that people don't exist after they die. Mrs. Falkins said that everyone who lived a good life goes to heaven to be with God, but that's not what Mommy said. They can't both be right about this, can they?"

Booth had known this day was coming, but he didn't expect such deep questions from an eight-year-old. Of course, Christine Angela Booth-Brennan wasn't just any child. She was the daughter of Temperance Brennan, who possessed the most probing, rational, razor-sharp mind he'd ever encountered. So naturally, their child would take apart any issue she encountered, roll it around in her little head, and come up with questions her father would have to answer.

Booth had thought the subject of death would arise with Christine when Pops passed away, but so far the oldest Booth was quite healthy for his age, thank you very much, and showed no signs of 'checking out" as he called it. Booth thanked his lucky stars, God, and the universe every day that his beloved grandfather was still around and able to enjoy Christine and little Hank. The bruiser was down with a bad cold today and had stayed home with Brennan rather than going to church. His son's croupy cough and labored breathing were difficult to witness, but Booth was glad for the chance to talk to Christine alone on their way home about her weighty questions.

He took a deep breath, and plunged ahead. "Chrissy, Mommy doesn't believe in God. She doesn't believe in an afterlife. That doesn't mean she doesn't remember your Uncle Sweets and all he did for us. People don't all believe the same things. Their ideas and thoughts are shaped by what they've experienced, and no two people have the same perceptions. Two people can live the same day, and feel it very differently. Your mom and I go to work every day and do our jobs side by side. We see the same stuff, we go through the same situations, but we still have our own reactions to what happens. Pops and Gram raised your Uncle Jared and me to believe in God. Your mom grew up differently, and has her own ideas about our existence on earth. I can't tell you why people react and believe differently. They just do, and we have to respect each other's viewpoints and beliefs."

"As far as feeling like Uncle Sweets is nearby, hanging out with you, or guiding you, I think you may be right. As you know, Gram died a long time ago. My grandmother was one of the best people I ever knew, and I loved her very much. I still miss her every day, just like Pops does. There have been several time in my life when I felt like she was close by, steering me to do the right thing. I haven't told many people about this, because most wouldn't believe it. But I believe you, because I've felt the same thing, had the same type of experience. A father is very important to his child, and I believe your Uncle Sweets is keeping an eye on Seeley from heaven. It seems natural that his spirit might come to be with his son now and then. We won't know who's right for a long time to come, so you just have to decide what _you_ believe and go with it. Mommy won't make fun of your ideas, even if she might not agree with them."

"Maybe we can do something to let people know about Uncle Sweets, and make Seeley and your Aunt Daisy feel better because his life is remembered. Give me a few days to think about it. If you come up with any ideas, you let me know too, okay? We'll talk to Mommy about it as well."

Pulling the SUV into a parking spot in front of their favorite bakery, Booth followed his daughter inside to conduct their favorite weekly shopping spree. Christine perused the glass-fronted display cases of croissants, donuts, bagels, pastries, and baked goods while inhaling their enchanting yeasty aromas. Tony Alberto dusted his floury hands off on his pristine white apron, and grinned at his most enthusiastic patrons. Special Agent Booth and his daughter loved donuts better than his own grandma.

The pair chose a selection of goodies to take home, paid their bill, and headed out to the SUV with a box full of Alberto's finest baked treats. Once they arrived home, Brennan coaxed the congested Hank into eating a few bites of his favorite croissants before returning to the couch and his Ninja Turtle blanket.

Booth had waited through the day for a chance to talk to his wife about Christine's thorny questions, but decided a week of consideration on how to address the topic might be a wiser course of action. By the following Saturday morning in the midst of mowing the lawn, he knew he needed to address the topic with Brennan before their children returned from sleeping over with Grandpa Max that afternoon.

He hosed off and stored the lawn mower, stacked the rake and edger, closed the garage door, and headed for the house. Brennan was preparing a macaroni and cheese casserole for dinner and he sniffed its cheesy goodness appreciatively before hugging her from behind.

"I need to talk to you before the kids get home," he began. "Chrissy's been asking me about Sweets, and heaven, and the afterlife. She feels his presence near her from time to time. I know you don't buy into this, but I felt the same with my Gram when I was in that Iraqi jail hell-hole, and she kept me sane when they were whaling on my feet. I can't ignore or deny our daughter experiencing something similar, although I told her you don't believe the same as I do."

She wants to do something so people will know about Lance, remember his life, to comfort Seeley and Daisy."

Brennan turned in his arms, took a step back, and glared at him. "You know how I feel about your putting ideas in our childrens' heads. I thought we agreed to let them make their own decisions about religion and such when the time comes. Talking about this when Christine is so young is inappropriate."

"I didn't bring it up. She did. They talked about it in Sunday school. I can't ignore her questions. I don't think dismissing her concerns is appropriate either, do you?"

Brennan frowned and said nothing.

"She knows we see this subject differently, but she's a very smart kid, thanks to your brainpower, and she's gonna ask questions. I suggested she talk to you about it as well; ask how you feel. She won't be able to make up her own mind when she's older if we don't discuss ideas freely as they arise."

"I'm not trying to influence her, Bones. Kids start to wonder about life as they grown. Little Seeley told her he feels his father around him. Asked her if he was crazy. He isn't comfortable bringing it up with his mom, because it makes Daisy cry. I'd think you'd understand. You know what it's like having no one to confide in. I didn't explain what you went through, I just told her we see things differently. One of these days, you will have to tell Christine about your teenage years, being in the foster system. Probably sooner than later. Our daughter is just like you. Too wise for her own good, analytical to the extreme, coming up with tough questions, looking for answers, and very capable of seeing through anyone's BS."

"We don't normally disagree because we don't discuss what we see differently. We don't fight about the kids, because our vision for them is the same. But our child has raised an issue where our beliefs diverge, and I don't see how we can sweep this under the rug. Tell her what you believe and why. Acknowledge that I don't see it that way. She'll understand gradually, if she doesn't right now. Intelligent beings perceive things for themselves, draw their own conclusions. Have been ever since before Martine Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the church door in Wittenberg."

Brennan rolled her eyes at her husband. "Booth, that's a legend that likely didn't occur. His proclamation was published and disseminated quickly through Germany, but he never pounded it with a hammer."

"I got you to cool down, didn't I?" Booth said gently.

"I'm not trying to antagonize you, but Christine is just like you; once she has a question, she's like a dog with a bone, not gonna let go or give up til she's satisfied."

"I realize that. I had just hoped this subject wouldn't come up quite so soon. We are so compatible in all other ways, she's not going to understand why Mommy and Daddy disagree on this. You're right, she is too smart for her own good. Or mine," Brennan muttered.

"Maybe we can address the other thing Christine wants to know," Booth suggested. "how to insure people know about Seeley's father and remember the good man he was. She is worried about her friend feeling bad because his dad isn't around for him. Seeley is the one who asked her first if he was crazy for thinking his father's spirit was nearby. I'm telling you, these kids are way more perceptive than I was at the same age."

Brennan took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm sorry I lashed out at you, Booth."

"Bones, I knew I married a firebrand. I knew you were passionate and opinionated that day I saw you in the lecture hall holding forth on defleshing techniques. You told me you didn't believe in fate, and looked at me like I was a moron for even mentioning it. Your intensity is part of what I fell in love with," Booth told her.

"Even so, I shouldn't have gotten angry. You are correct, we have to acknowledge our daughter's questions openly, even where we disagree on the answers. She will learn something important about human nature, and the fact that her parents are individuals," Brennan declared.

"And realize way too early that we only have feet of clay," Booth muttered.

His wife smirked. "Speak for yourself, John Alden. My feet are flesh and bone, not clay, I'll have you know!"

"Bones, you know what I mean. She's gonna realize we aren't perfect; well, at least I know I'm not, Miss Perfect! And soon enough, no matter what you do, Christine is gonna think you're from Pluto when she disagrees with you on curfew, or her clothing, or makeup."

"Booth, Pluto is not a planet, it's been downgraded."

"That's beside the point, Bones. Your science factoids won't change the reality that one of these days our children will both decide we are dinosaurs, stodgy, opinionated old fogeys, just like I did with Pops and Gram, and you …. Well, I guess you never had the chance to feel that way about Max and your mom, did you, Baby?"

Tears welled in Brennan's eyes, and she stepped forward into his embrace.

"I'm sorry, Bones, I was stupid to go there. I didn't mean to make you sad."

"Booth, you didn't. It's part of my past, I can't bury it. Trying to do so didn't help me. Dealing with foster care that way probably cost me friends, made me even more awkward than I already was. You are the reason I have my father and Russ back, that I have a relationship with either of them, that I ever found out what happened to my mother, and found my family again after so many years of wondering fruitlessly. If I hadn't met you, and worked with you on cases, I'd never have known her fate, or where my dad and brother were. Despite our different views on what happens after death, we complete each other. You make me whole. Without you, I couldn't have this full, rewarding life. I'd just be existing, like I was before you strode into my lecture at American University like a know-it-all!"

She buried her head on his shoulder, and he hugged her even tighter, patting her back.

Brennan raised her head and smiled at Booth through her tears. "I have to change my answer to that question you asked me that day so many years ago. I do believe in fate, Booth, I do. You have no idea how much you've changed me."

"Bones, we changed each other. We grew as people, deepened as friends and partners, healed each other, and broke the laws of physics by falling in love. We are part of each other, complete each other, inseparable. Even when I die, I'll be with you, no matter if you believe it or not! You're stuck with me forever, Baby."

"Don't call me Baby, Booth. As to Christine's other concern about people being unaware of Sweets and the good he accomplished in his short lifetime, perhaps we could fund a graduate degree scholarship for the psychology department of one of his alma maters. Since you also attended the University of Pennsylvania, that institution would be my choice. What do you think?"

"That's an great idea. Penn gave me an excellent education, and their programs are flexible, which would benefit a grad student. I was able to finish my degree while working full-time, which was the only way I could go to school and provide financial support for Parker at the same time. You're a genius, Bones, my genius."

"I am intelligent, Booth, but you are the heart of our relationship; without you I'd still be clueless on the physical benefits of scientific experimentation," Brennan remarked slyly.

"Okay, Mrs. Booth, what would you say to breaking the laws of physics again tonight after the kids are in bed so we can make up after this quarrel? Oh, gosh, look at the time! Right now, we've gotta go pick them up at Max's. He's refereeing a bowling tournament this afternoon in an hour. "

"You're on, Booth. Last one to the car's a rotten egg! Dad won't be happy if we make him late."


End file.
